


What Makes You Think You're The One

by tiptoetwirl (SheSellsSeaShells)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4944613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheSellsSeaShells/pseuds/tiptoetwirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny acts first and thinks second. Eventually this leads to Steve getting promoted. Danny suspects explosives were involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes You Think You're The One

**Author's Note:**

> A bit more angsty than the summary might suggest. Originally posted on FF.net in 2011.

He had the headache of all headaches. That his expression stayed neutral, unreadable even as he leaned back in his chair and regarded the two bickering men in front of him was a testament to Steve's self control. If these two didn't shut the hell up soon he was going to punch something. It had been at least a week since Steve had sparred against someone. He was itching to hit something, preferably the two neanderthals who thought it would be funny to sabotage someone's parachute before a jump.

"And then Howie said we should teach the little fucker a lesson," Ensign Jim O Grady said, relaxing back in his seat as he mistook Steve's silence for approval.

"Hey! No!" Howie, or Ensign Howard Barnes protested. He was clearly the smarter of the two and was more wary around his superior. "It wasn't my idea!"

"Yeah, it was," O Grady said, turning to look at his friend. "I said that Newton was a faggot suck up, showing us up like that in front of everyone and you said that faggots need to be taught a lesson so…"

"That is enough," Steve interrupted, his anger mounting along with his headache and turning his voice into something low and dangerous that had both teens turning to look at him in surprise.

"Tell me," Steve said, his tone taking on an almost conversational quality as he stood and moved to stand in front of the seated men, crossing his arms across his chest as he leant against his desk, "Would you still have thought it funny if Commander Hynes hadn't noticed that Ensign Cornwell's 'chute had been tampered with? Would you have still thought it was funny if Ensign Cornwell had jumped with a faulty parachute? Would you have still thought it funny if you were being charged for murder?"

"We didn't…" It was Barnes who spoke but Steve quickly silenced him with a look.

"I don't want to hear it." Steve said, "Consider yourselves extremely lucky that Ensign Cornwell is not pressing charges." He let that information sink in as he crossed back to his chair and picked up some paperwork, not sparing another glance at the men in front of him. "The two of you are suspended for a month and will serve three months community service at the Academy."

Barnes and O Grady took the dismissal for what it was, quickly rising and leaving the office, heads bowed. Steve waited until the door had closed behind them before letting the paperwork he pretended to be so engrossed in fall from suddenly limp fingers. His head hurt like a motherfucker. He crossed to the nearby water-cooler and quickly downed five cups in practically one gulp. Interviewing all involved parties before deciding on a course of disciplinary action had taken most of his afternoon and he'd missed lunch. As it was, it was late enough that he'd wait until he got home to get dinner. Messing up his schedule would only spur on the guys hammering nails into his forehead.

As it was, Steve didn't get a chance to go home for a long time.

~O

Danny Williams had the mother of all headaches. One that felt like drills were being hammered into his skull in time to the tune Rachel's stilettos were tapping out on the marble floor.

"I don't know why you have to insist on being so difficult, Daniel," Rachel said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I very distinctly remember forbidding Grace from taking those classes."

"Difficult?" Danny's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "I'm being difficult? You have got to be kidding me. I'm not the one who forbade our daughter from doing a sport she loves simply because of what the neighbours might say!"

"It was not because of the neighbours!" Rachel sneered. "Football is a thugs sport and my daughter is no thug."

"Oh for the love of..." Danny didn't bother to suppress his eye-roll, "This is not England, okay Rachel? This is America, the United States. Socceris a perfectly acceptable sport for girls. It is, in fact, so acceptable that the US Ladies are one of the most successful teams in the sport."

"That is not the point," Rachel insisted. "The point is that I said 'no' Daniel and yet you still enrolled her in that club! What kind of example would we be setting for Grace if you continue to negate my authority as her parent."

"Negate your...? Oh that's really rich!" Danny fumed, thinking of all the times Rachel and step-Stan had seen no problem with stepping over Danny's toes and he was about to remind her of such when his phone rang.

"Oh that's right," Rachel sniped, her lips thinning, "put your work ahead of family Daniel. It's what you always do."

"Yeah, Williams," Danny greeted, ignoring Rachel and turning away from her glare. "You're kidding me? Why aren't NCIS on it?" There was a pause and Danny listened to whoever was on the other end before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was so not helping his headache.  
"Okay," Danny nodded, "I'm on my way." He hung up, and turned to find Rachel had already left the room. Fine, two could play at that game. He strode out of the house and if the door slammed shut, echoing through the vast and completely unnecessary 'atrium' then it wasn't Danny's fault. Nobody who was sane and lived on the planet earth actually built an atrium into their house.

By the time Danny arrived at the crime scene, it was already teeming with personnel, and had been cordoned off. As far as crime scenes went, Danny had seen worse and, really, what did that say about him when he could look at a guy who had bled out from three gunshot wounds and all Danny could think about was that he'd seen worse.

"Yo! Williams!" A familiar voice called and Danny glanced to his side to find David Maymo, his partner, hurrying up to him.

"Hey Junior," Danny grinned, quick and broad, "You wanna tell me why I'm working the murder of a sailor on my day off? Where the hell is NCIS?" He very valiantly pushed down the little tendril of longing that curled in his gut every time he thought about the Navy.

"Too busy to bother with one little shoot and run," Maymo snorted. "I called to notify them of the body but apparently every available team is already working on a case. Who woulda thought that many people have it in for guys in white?"

"Figures," Danny snorted. "Lazy ass Feds leaving us to do all the work. You get an ID on the guy yet?"

"Yeah," Maymo pulled out his notebook. "Meet Ensign Harry Cornwell. He works with the ordnance division over at Earle."

"So how'd he end up in some slum alley that's littered with needles and too many garbage bags to count?" Danny asked. "And did you call his CO?"

"Cornwell was on vacation," Maymo said. "Although who brings their tags and ID with them when they're off duty? I leave my gun and badge at home, what about you?"

"Me?" Danny's eyebrows rose in question. "I always have my gun and badge on me Junior. You know why? Because there's too many insane assholes around to ever be caught off guard. So," Danny paused and held up a hand to stop Maymo when it looked like the younger man was going to interrupt.  
"So, let me ask you something? How does a responsible, by the book Naval officer end up dead and dumped in a druggie's alley?"

"How'd you know he was by the book? Or even responsible?" Maymo couldn't help but ask.

"Because," Danny grinned. "He not only has his tags and ID but look at how he's dressed. His collar is pressed down like he had nothing better to do than spend hours on laundry. The lines on his pants are the same. His fingernails are practically non-existent, hair like a marine's, shoes are polished and he's wearing slacks and a collared shirt when he's off duty." Danny paused and cast one last look at Ensign Cornwell before turning away. "Let's go pay a visit to his CO while CSI clean this up. I'm willing to bet this guy's record is spotless."

The drive to NWS Earle was significantly shorter than it should have been. Instead of the usual forty five minutes it took to get from Newark to Colts Neck, Danny and Maymo made it in twenty, mostly because Maymo drove and made full use of the police siren they kept in the cubby. Seriously, how was it that Danny kept getting stuck with psycho partners that stole his keys then treated his car like they were living out some repressed Formula One fantasy. Maymo was even worse that Steve had been and that was really saying something. As quickly as they had risen, Danny squashed down any thoughts of Steve and if he exited the car faster than was strictly necessary, Maymo had the good sense to pretend he didn't notice.

NWS Earle was set up like dozens of other Naval bases across the country were set up and the scenery provided little distraction as they strode up to headquarters. A blonde whose hair was pinned back and whose glasses sported fashionably thin frames glanced up at them as they entered, clearly unimpressed, and Danny fought the urge to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt. When teamed with the room, which was all glass and polished wood and gilded edges and fancy lighting, the blonde's attitude was a little...unsettling.

"Newark PD," Danny said, flashing his badge. "We're here to speak to..." he raised an enquiring eyebrow at Maymo. "Who are we here to speak to?"

"Lieutenant Commander Hynes," Maymo dutifully responded and the blonde sniffed slightly in disdain.

"I'll need to check if he's taking visitors this afternoon," the blonde said and Danny blinked at her.

"No, you don't understand," Danny said, bracing his arms on the counter and leaning close to the receptionist. "I am Detective Williams and I am a homicide detective. I need to speak to Commander Hynes, now."

The receptionist paled and swallowed, leaning away from Danny a little.  
"O-of course, Detective," she said, glancing from Danny to Maymo before hitting a few keys on her computer. "Lieutenant Commander Hynes is in a meeting at the moment with the Rear Admiral..."

"Excellent," Danny grinned. "We should probably speak to him too. Which way?"

"You, um, I don't..." the blonde trailed of, glancing between Maymo and Danny before swallowing several times. "Okay, um, the Rear Admiral's office is the very top floor and the elevators are just to your right."

"Thank you," Danny's smile bared a few more teeth than was strictly necessary. "You've been very helpful."

"Hey Williams," Maymo said as they rode the elevator to the top floor. "You really gonna bust in on some hotshot Admiral's meeting?"

"How'd you know he's a hotshot?" Danny glanced at his partner out of the corner of his eyes. "For all we know he could be fat, wrinkled and balding."

"There was an article 'bout him a couple months ago when he was appointed," Maymo said. "Guys the youngest Rear Admiral in the history of the Navy, or something like that. Don't think he's forty yet."

Danny was silent for a moment, letting the information sink in before replying,  
"Doesn't mean he isn't fat and balding."

Maymo laughed as the elevator doors whispered open and deposited them onto a marble reception area that was even fancier than the one downstairs. The receptionist behind the polished desk was also blonde; with a similarly superior expression to the one the girl downstairs initially sported and on the leather couches arranged to one side of the desk was a man in service khakis. His hair was neatly parted to one side and he sat with that sort of contradictory tense relaxation that only the military could achieve, looking at home but at the same time like a coiled spring poised just on the verge of release. Glancing at his collar and squinting slightly to make out the rank insignia, Danny veered from the path that was taking him towards the receptionist, ignoring her in favour of approaching the man.

"Lieutenant Commander Hynes?" Danny asked and the man nodded at them.  
"I'm Detective Williams and this is Detective Maymo, Newark homicide. Do you have a moment?"

"What's this about, gentleman?" the man asks instead, his eyes narrowing and somehow giving the impression that he was looking down on them despite his seated position.

"How long was Ensign Harry Cornwell under your command?" Maymo asked and Hynes' brow furrowed.

"Approximately two and a half years," the Commander replied.

"And did you notice anything strange about his behaviour?" Danny asked.

"I'll repeat," Commander Hynes' back straightened, "what is this about?"

"Ensign Cornwell's body was found this morning," Danny said, his stance softening slightly as the Commander's eyes widened in shock. "He was shot."

"Shot?" The Commander's disbelief was apparent but his military training soon kicked in and he composed himself, taking a deep breath and forcing down any apparent grief.  
"Do you know who shot him?" Commander Hynes asked.

"Not yet," It was Maymo who spoke. "We were hoping you could tell us about Ensign Cornwell. Did he have many friends? Enemies?"

"Enemies," Commander Hynes' eyes narrowed in thought, "I was just waiting for the Admiral to arrive, we have a meeting scheduled and I think we should let him know about this."

"Let me know about what?" A deep voice said from behind the detectives and Danny stiffened, eyes widening as disbelief shot through him. He hadn't heard that voice in three years but he would never, ever forget it.

Danny turned and it felt as if he was moving through molasses. Seriously, the air was that fucking thick with anticipation. He heard measured footsteps approaching, could hear as those steps slowed. Maymo was giving Danny a funny look and Commander Hynes was standing at attention. Both seemed ignorant to the tension that suddenly flooded the room and, really, how blind could you be. Danny could practically feel the eyes boring into him as he turned and he swallowed and tried not to look as shocked and shaken as he felt.

It was too soon and yet it should have happened years ago. Danny's breath caught in his throat. It had been three years since Steve McGarrett had walked out of his life and Danny felt as if the world shuddered to a stop when he met stormy blue eyes for the first time in those three years. Three Goddamned years.

"Admiral," Commander Hynes saluted, "This is..."

"Danny?" Something flashed in Steve's eyes but it was repressed too quickly for Danny to identify. The bastard.

"Steve," Danny managed to greet and his voice was _not gruff_ Goddamnit!

"You two know each other?" Maymo asked and Steve switched his attention to him.

Maymo's back stiffened and under any other circumstances Danny would have smirked. The Steve McGarrett effect could make any and everyone who was halfway normal feel like they were being examined by the person who was more skilled and important than you could ever hope to be. Except now Steve actually _was_ that important. Danny's gaze flipped to the stars on Steve's lapel. It figured that of all the thousands of men in the damn Navy, Steven McGarrett would be the one who became the youngest Rear Admiral ever. Or something like that.

"We knew each other," Steve frowned, something tightening in the corner of his mouth and Danny's gut sank. "We'll take this into my office," Steve gestured for them to enter ahead of him and turned to his secretary, "Belinda, unless it's the President, no interruptions okay?"

"Yes, sir," Belinda smiled and pushed her shoulders back a bit under the pretence of typing.

Slut, Danny thought but then he was being ushered into a chair in front of one of the biggest desks he had ever seen in his life. Seriously, an aeroplane could take off from that thing.

"At ease, Commander," Steve said as he slipped into his own chair and it was only then that Danny realised that Commander Hynes was still standing at attention. Damn Army. Or Navy. Whatever.  
"What can I do for you, Detectives?" Steve continued and Danny swallowed to try and get rid of the grit that lined his throat.

"Ensign Harry Cornwell was killed this morning," Danny said and was proud that his voiced resembled something normal. "We found his body in an alley in Newark."

"Does NCIS know?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I called those guys myself," Maymo spoke, shifting a little. "Said all their teams were already on cases but they'd send someone down as soon as they were available if we hadn't closed the case by then."

"Alright ," Steve nodded. "Ensign Cornwell was an exemplary soldier. He was focused, determined and intelligent and brave."

"He had a lot of friends," Danny prodded.

"Some," Steve nodded. "Unfortunately, Ensign Cornwell had a very strong sense of morality. So if you're looking for someone with motive then you're going to have your hands full. Ensign Cornwell reported a superior officer for unbecoming conduct last month and two colleagues for tampering with another person's parachute at a training jump just yesterday."

"Unbecoming conduct?" Danny echoed.

"Lieutenant Bryan Sykes," Steve said after a moment of thought. "He was hungover when supervising Ensign Cornwell's drill group. Cornwell reported it and Sykes was suspended for three months."

"Three months?" Maymo whistled and Steve's eyes narrowed.

"Lieutenant Sykes had been warned once already," Steve said. "This is the _Navy_ ; furthermore, this is a _weapons base_. I expect nothing but the best from my men and there are no second chances."

"Sure," Maymo quickly nodded. "I get it."

From there the meeting didn't last much longer. Commander Hynes provided a few more details that Steve couldn't remember then Maymo was rising to leave and all Danny could think of was that there was no way he could lose Steve without putting things right between them. Not again. So Danny lingered as Maymo left the office and fought the urge to gulp when Steve glanced up at him with those shuttered eyes.

"Is there something else, Detective?" Steve asked and Danny's gut twisted. This is what his actions had done and yet he was being given a second, if undeserved, chance.

"Can we," Danny started to say, "when this is over, can we meet? Just to talk?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Detective," Steve replied, his expression suggesting that what he really wanted to say was 'no way in hell' but Danny was nothing if not determined.

" _Steve_ ," Danny whispered, letting his guard drop so that Steve could see the sincerity behind his words. "Please, I just want to talk."

Steve was silent for a long moment, his gaze boring holes through Danny before something in his shoulders relaxed and he nodded.  
"Okay," Steve said and jotted something down. "Okay, this is my number. When the case is closed, give me a call."

"Sure," Danny exhaled as he took the paper. "Sure, I'll talk to you later." He grinned at Steve, uncaring that it was wide enough to make him look a little like an idiot and he was still grinning when he met Maymo at the car.

"Shut up and drive," Danny said before Maymo could talk and that stupid grin absolutely _did not_ stay on his face all the back to Newark.

~O

The water was warm, thanks to the heating system Steve had installed. He'd even been able to get some sort of generator to make waves, or rather, a current. It wasn't the beach but it was the closest Steve could come.

He cut through the water, revelling in the feel of his muscles working and his body slicing easily through the generated resistance. Reaching the edge of the pool, Steve turned, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he tucked himself into a ball, rolled and pushed off again for yet another lap. He didn't keep count, preferring to let his body tell him when it was ready to stop. Needless to say, it was a long while later that he heaved himself out of the pool and towelled down before padding back into the house.

There was nowhere in the world quite like Hawaii but Steve had known that from the age of fifteen. It was just that leaving this time had been so much harder. He'd made friends in Hawaii; he had family there that he was closer to than he'd ever been to his own kin. At least, he thought he had. It turned out it wasn't really family if the sentiment was one sided. And it wasn't really family if they could accuse you of awful stuff, like taking a kid to a crime scene. And it definitely wasn't family when they would believe a few (obviously photoshopped) pictures over your word. Your _word_.

Steve had given his heart to Five-0. He'd stole for them, and been to jail for them and lied for them. He was a military man, contrary to what Danny might think, breaking the law was not something he easily did. Not the ones that mattered. And as for Danny, Steve had invited him into his heart and home. He had invited him into his bed. Never before had Steve slept with a man but Danny was different, had always been different. Serious relationships were not something Steve indulged in. Ever. There was too much potential for hurt, too much which could be used against you, too much holding you to one place.

But he'd committed to Danny and Grace, had known from the start that Danny would not accept anything other than everything and Steve had very willingly given Danny everything. He'd lied to feds. He'd been willing to let Danny leave with Rachel, had accepted him back with open arms when that had fallen through. Danny had talked about love, had talked about the _future_ , a future with _Steve_ and then he'd up and left the minute Rachel had thrown a few crumbs in his direction, broken all his promises to try and get back his ex-wife. And still Steve had forgiven him.

He should have known then, should have realised that Danny was just like everyone else. He should have realised then that Danny hadn't been nearly as invested as Steve had been. But if Steve had a weakness it was an inability to say no to Detective Danny Williams. So when, three days later, Danny called to arrange that talk, Steve found himself unable to just let the phone ring out.

~O

He was being stood up. This wasn't even a date and he was being stood up. Danny sighed as he picked at the label on his longneck, brushing his thumb against the condensation there. He couldn't really blame Steve for being a no show. If their positions had been reversed, Danny would have hit someone by now.

It was funny how Danny had always accused Steve of being the hot-tempered one and yet when those pictures had come all Danny had seen was Grace, in Steve's truck, at the warehouse their main suspects in a murder investigation worked out of. All he'd seen was his little girl, alone, a stones throw away from sick bastards that carved out peoples livers and he'd immediately jumped to conclusions. In hindsight it was so completely obvious that the whole thing had been a set up, that someone was trying to end Five-0 but, by the time Danny had calmed down, Steve had found the son-of-a-bitch who'd been dumb enough leave his fingerprints on the envelope and was halfway to God knows where.

And really, Danny had never felt more stupid in his entire life because what better way to discover you were a grade A ass than to let some incompetent shit prod you into ruining the best thing that had ever happened to you. There was no way in hell Steve would ever take Grace with him to interview suspects. Danny knew that, had always known that but he'd taken one look at those pictures and had let his fists do the talking. Half a day later found Danny looking for Steve to apologise only to realise he'd already solved the 'case' and taken the last flight out of Hawaii. A few measly hours were all it had taken and Danny's world had been turned on its head.  
  
He'd know he was treading on thin ice. He'd _known_ that no matter how accepting Steve had acted over Danny wanting to get back with Rachel, he had been hurt. Danny had been a little careless with Steve's feelings and it was the mother of all miracles that Steve had taken him back without complaint but Danny _knew_ that there were consequences to his actions. Steve's trust and patience had been stretched to the limit and the sensible, logical thing to do was re-affirm their relationship, to show Steve just how much Danny appreciated the second chance. Over the span of a million nightmares and repressed memories, Danny would never find out what insanity had possessed him when he decided the best way to do that was deck Steve for endangering his daughter. Sighing once more, Danny was about to go home since Steve was obviously a no show, when the door to the bar was pushed open and Danny was proven wrong once again.

Steve was in dress whites, all broad shoulders and long legs, and Danny's wasn't the only gaze following him as he made his way to where Danny was sitting. Danny took another gulp of beer and shifted a little in his seat as he tried to quell the emotion that swelled within him. All too soon Steve was sliding into the stool next to his, larger than life and looking so damn wary that Danny dug his nails into the flesh of his palms. 

"Sorry I'm late," Steve said, signalling the bartender. "I had a conference call. It was important."

"No problem," Danny attempted a smile. "Busy day?"

"No more than usual," Steve shrugged, turning in his seat to face Danny. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Okay now see, I was making small talk, the polite thing to do McGarrett, is talk back. I asked about your day, a normal person would ask about mine," Danny couldn't help but say. This colder, stoic version of Steve was scaring him.

Steve merely stared at him with that blank scrutiny that Danny had last seen the very first time he'd met Steven McGarrett and, for a second, he was afraid Steve would just walk out.  
"Danny," Steve eventually said. "I've just spent four hours discussing weapons trafficking with the President and Defence Secretary. _What did you want to talk about?_

"I," Danny floundered for a second, "I just wanted to apologize," he glanced down at his bottle and missed the way Steve's eyes narrowed. "I know its three years too late, and you probably don't want to hear it, but for what it's worth I really am sorry Steve. I was an asshole to think you'd ever endanger Grace _at all_ and, well, I guess I'm just really sorry."

There was silence for a moment and Danny glanced up to find Steve was staring at him, stormy grey eyes narrowed as if they were trying to read Danny's thoughts.  
"Why now, Danny?" Steve eventually asked. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing!" Danny bit down on his lip before continuing; trying to hold in the tirade that would let Steve know that he did, in fact, want something. He wanted things to go back to the way they were. "I just wanted to apologise."

"Okay," Steve nodded and stood. "You've apologised. It's been a long day and I have an early start tomorrow so...goodnight, Detective." He placed a few notes on the counter to cover the cost of his drink and, with one last glance at Danny, was striding out of the door.

~O

Joanna Morley was not a woman easily excited. Nerves of steel and a sensible, practical sort of personality were traits that lent her in good stead with her class of eleven year olds. Scratch that, Joanna thought with a sigh as some of the class tried to peek on the code their tour guide was entering into the keypad, it was a class of _very precocious_ eleven year olds.

The class was on a field trip to NWS Earle and to say that the kids were excited to be amongst such displays of technology was an understatement. At the age where everything from X-Box games to television programs were combat based, the kids were finding that the trip to the Naval Base was a lot more exciting than they had originally thought it would be. Her gaze travelled over the twenty two students in her care, cataloguing the way some of the girls stood off to the side, already more interested in the boys in the class instead of their surroundings. Most of the boys, in turn, were listening avidly to Lieutenant Carson explain how training drills were run and how you had to book practice sessions on the firing range days in advance.

"And this is the gym the commissioned officers use," Lieutenant Carson said, leading the team into a large open room stocked with the usual gym equipment as well as strategically placed mats for sparring.

"It's pretty empty at this time of day since most commissioned officers are working and those that are off duty usually prefer to come later when their friends are around."

True to the Lieutenants words, the gym was almost deserted. There was someone pumping weights in one corner and a couple of women were pounding the treadmills. Other than that, the only people around were two men on the sparring mats.

"It looks as though a couple of officers are training," Lieutenant Carson said, his voice dropping and his next words explaining why. "Those are two very important men. The one with lighter hair is Captain Fred Gingham and he's sparring with the man in charge of this base, Rear Admiral Steven McGarrett. Admiral McGarrett is the youngest Rear Admiral since Elmo Zumwalt, who was 44 when he was appointed to the position in 1966. Admiral McGarrett is thirty eight. You're all very lucky to be able to watch a spar between such experienced soldiers and, if you watch closely, you'll see exactly what hard work and dedication can help you to achieve."

Joanna's face softened into a smile at that. God bless military men, they were the only people who could get away with appearing disciplined _and_ cool in front of the kids and could motivate them towards hard work without looking like sticks in the mud. Her gaze was then drawn towards the men the Lieutenant had just introduced. They were both wearing loose training pants and thin t-shirts. Joanna was young enough and woman enough to not be ashamed to admit that they made for an intoxicating sight with sweat soaked clothes sticking to well-built bodies. She had a boyfriend but there was no crime in looking…as long as the class didn't realise that her interest wasn't the same as theirs.

They were obviously experienced and used to each other, moving with ease and familiarity and blocking kicks and punches as if they could anticipate each other's moves. Joanna had to admit that it was a highly impressive display of skill that was made all the more so because the men were unaware of their audience. So, when they finally stopped and shook hands with amicable and exhilarated smiles and the class burst into applause, it was not surprising that both men turned to survey the gathered children with something akin to bemusement.

"Excuse us, Sir!" Lieutenant Carson snapped to attention and saluted, waiting to be either dismissed or allowed to stay. The children began to titter but the entire effect was ruined by one skinny little girl.

"Uncle Steve!" the cry rang out through the room as a blur of brown hair and thin arms barrelled into the Rear Admiral, almost knocking him over.

Joanna Morley and Lieutenant watched with fascinated disbelief, both on the verge of pulling the girl away but halted by the hand the Admiral held up.

"Grace?" Steve asked, looking down at the girl that he'd last seen three years ago and had never had the chance to bid goodbye to.

"Uncle Steve!" Grace beamed. "Danno didn't tell me you would be here! I haven't seen you in so long! Danno said you were off playing ninja SEAL. Why haven't you been to visit us?"

"Are you here with your class?" Steve neatly side-stepped the questioned by smiling down at Grace and ruffling her hair before turning his attention to the gaping children and equally flabbergasted teacher (though she did a much better job of hiding it).

"Yep!" Grace beamed and bounced a little on her toes. "You work here right, Uncle Steve? Are you gonna show us around?"

Steve blinked and, behind him, Fred Gingham hid a smile. He'd known Steve for years and they had both served on the same SEAL team. It figured that an eleven year old girl with a missing tooth could make an Admiral who practically co-ordinated his own escape after being held and tortured by North Korean terrorists for the better part of a month uneasy in a way those same terrorists could never dream of achieving.

"I'm sorry about the interruption, Sir," Lieutenant Carson finally snapped out of his daze. "I'll continue the tour and let you get back to work."

"That's alright, Lieutenant," Steve smiled. "Tell Belinda to reschedule my appointments for the day. I'll take over the tour."

"Yes, Sir!" Carson saluted and strode away, hiding his surprise behind the façade of military neutrality. 

"You don't mind, do you, Fred?" Steve turned to his sparring partner. "I can kick your a-, your behind, some other time if you'd like?" 

"We'll see who'll do the kicking," Fred grinned. "But no, I don't mind. Have fun!" 

"I will," Steve grinned and began to show the excited class around leaving Fred to realise that, in the years since Steve re-joined the Navy, Fred had not once seen such a genuine smile on his face. 

That day the entire base was treated to sight of their fearless leader dressed in workout clothes and surrounded by curious and bickering children, one of whom seemed permanently attached to his hip and, for the first time since he'd arrived at Earle, the Rear Admiral seemed almost human. 

~O 

The man's eyes were open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. A pool of congealed blood formed a halo around tousled brown hair and the gunshot wound gaping on his forehead provided a very strong hint as to cause of death. 

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from the sight. Jim Walls was a forty two year old accountant and Maymo was talking to Sarah Wakefield, Walls' lover and the wife of Petty officer Bob Wakefield. Everything was further contemplated by the fact that the Wakefield's lived on base housing. On the NWS Earle. Over a month had passed since Danny's attempt to resume contact with Steve had been so quickly and ruthlessly shut down and Danny once again found himself on the Earle, fervently hoping that Steve did not make an appearance. Danny was smart enough to know that he would have trouble keeping himself from falling to his knees and begging Steve to forgive him. 

"You the Detective in charge?" A voice asked and Danny turned to find himself confronted with a couple of men in blue jackets. Great. NCIS. 

"Yeah," Danny nodded. "And before you say what I am certain you are about to say, the victim's a civilian which means that this is our jurisdiction." 

"A civilian who happens to have been killed on a Naval base," the fed argued. "That makes it our jurisdiction." 

"Okay listen, here's what's gonna happen," Danny was in no mood to trade barbs with stuck up federal agents. "We will both work the crime scene, we will pool our resources and share the workload and then share the credit once the case is solved. If you have a problem with this then feel free to leave and we'll finish this ourselves." 

"I don't think so," the NCIS agent began to say but he was interrupted by a voice that made Danny realise his guardian angel was seriously neglecting her duties. 

"I do," Steve cut off the fed's protest as he breezed into the house making everyone pause what they were doing to look at him. 

"And who do you think you are?" The still unnamed agent asked, although he did have a rather large nose and it was kinda red. Hm, Danny thought to himself as he felt something akin to pity for the fool who dared challenge Steve's authority, Rudolph seemed like an appropriate nickname. 

"Who do I think I am?" Steve's eyebrows rose into his hairline. During the days of Five-0, Danny would have taken that as a sign that Steve was about to go into noisy, destructive, super-SEAL mode and would find something appropriate behind which to take cover. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

"I am Rear Admiral McGarrett and I am in charge of this base. Who are you?" Steve replied, his expression stern enough to have the NCIS agent shifting in discomfort. 

"Special Agent McNulty, Sir. NCIS." 

Hm, Danny preferred Rudolph. 

"Well Special Agent McNulty," Steve's smile was almost predatory. "I'm sure your Director would love to hear how you've been promoting inter-agency co-operation. It's part of your job, after all, to assist the local PDs in cases such as this." Agent McNulty-Rudolph looked like he was going to argue but Steve spoke again before he could do so. 

"Detective Williams," Steve smiled but only Danny noticed that it did not reach his eyes. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Hopefully you can solve this case as swiftly and competently as the last one." 

"It's a promise, Admiral," Danny nodded and hope blossomed within him even though he knew exactly what Steve was doing: playing on the fact that he knew Danny to intimidate NCIS into co-operating. 

Still, as they processed the scene and discussed theories, Danny couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them. It was a foolish and naïve wish, one born of desperation to regain the closeness he and Steve had once shared but Danny had always been a little foolish when it came to love.

Grace had told him all about her class trip to the base and how it had all ended with Steve showing them around and even giving a few practical demonstrations in the training rooms. Danny was pretty sure Rear Admirals had better things to do than show a bunch of kids around their bases and he was pretty sure that, if he'd wanted to, Steve would have had no problems saying no to Grace. That he hadn't wanted to was telling. 

So when, a few days later, they had found the culprit (one of Sarah Wakefield's work colleagues who had developed an unhealthy obsession with her) Danny found himself riding the elevator to Steve's office once more. 

Belinda the slut glared at him over pursed lips and told him that Steve was in a meeting. Knowing, but not really caring, that he would come across as desperate; Danny plonked himself in one of the couches and picked up a magazine. _All Hands_ , the official magazine of the US Navy. Fascinating. Ten issues and innumerable hours later Danny had found out that the USS Nimitz was the longest running Aircraft Carrier and that there had been a feature on Steve last month. 

Apparently becoming the youngest Rear Admiral ever, or something like that, was a pretty big deal. It was an even bigger deal because Steve had played a majority role in the capture of three men on the CIA's Most Wanted list to get the promotion. Danny suspected explosives had been involved. Danny also suspected the photographer on the day had been a woman because there were a lot of pictures that somehow managed to show off Steve's ass. 

Eventually the door to Steve's office opened and a uniformed officer walked out, casting a curious glance in Danny's direction but not otherwise acknowledging him. Danny didn't give the receptionist time to speak and was immediately out of his seat, slipping into Steve's office before the door had fully closed behind the previous visitor. Steve was sitting behind his desk, frowning down at some papers on his desk. He glanced up as Danny entered but his frown only deepened. 

"Hey," Danny greeted. "You got a moment?" 

"Yes," Steve nodded and gestured to a seat. "What can I do for you Detective?" 

"I just wanted to let you know that we closed the case," Danny said as he took the offered seat. "Got a full confession and everything. There's no chance the guy's walking." 

"Good," Steve's expression didn't soften. "I'm glad to hear it." 

There was silence for a moment and Danny shifted, in his seat, trying to summon up the courage for what he wanted to do next. 

"Was there anything else?" Steve prompted. 

"Yeah, actually, there was," Danny gulped. "Grace has been asking after you. She had fun on the field trip and wants to know if you're going to be at the barbeque we're having this weekend." 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Steve sighed. "I don't want to give her the wrong impression." 

"She really misses you Steve," Danny insisted. He was not above playing the guilt card. 

"That's not fair," Steve's eyes narrowed as he immediately caught onto Danny's tactics. 

"When it comes to my daughter I don't play fair," Danny smirked, sensing that Steve was about to cave. 

"No," Steve's voice was low and the smirk immediately fell from Danny's lips. "No, you don't." 

He stood and turned away from Danny so that he could look out at the view from his window. 

"I'm a busy man, Detective so I must cut our meeting short. I'm sure you can show yourself out." 

Danny stood as well but he didn't leave despite the dismissal. Instead he slowly crossed to the other side of the desk and stood behind Steve knowing, from the way Steve's shoulders tensed, that he was aware of Danny's move. 

"I'm _sorry_ ," Danny's voice was low, urgent. "I know it's not nearly enough and I know I hurt you but I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. Tell me what to say, Steve. Please. Tell me what I can do to make this better because I really, _really_ need to make this better. I'll do anything just…" 

"Stop," Steve turned around, his eyes turbulent as he looked down at Danny. "Just stop." 

Steve sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands. It was really unfair that he felt so guilty when he wasn't the one in the wrong. Three damn years. He should have fallen out of love by now. 

"You mess me up, Danny," Steve mumbled. "God how you mess me up." 

"Steve," Neither man noticed as Danny's hand came up to rest on Steve's arm, "Babe." 

"It's not fair," Steve's eyes flashed with emotion that made Danny's heart swell inside his chest. "You thought I… _Danny_ …I don't…" 

"I know, babe, I know," the words fell from Danny's lips without thought and he let instinct guide his actions as he wrapped a hand around Steve's neck and pulled him into a kiss. 

They melted together as if they'd never been apart, lips moving seamlessly and in unison as they drank in their first taste of each other in years. Danny's eyes fluttered shut and he pressed into Steve, revelling in the strong arms that slid around his waist. He was getting a third chance. Against all odds he was actually, really getting another chance. 

Danny would put a bullet through his brain before he messed up this time. 


End file.
